


At Dawn

by springbreeze



Category: Senyuu.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-02-15 04:53:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2216517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springbreeze/pseuds/springbreeze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are some things that even heroes don’t notice. /Happy birthday, Alba! 3/6.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> Uploading my Senyuu works from FF.net and tumblr. Sorry for the spam in the tag!
> 
> Part 3 timeline, spoilers up to chapter 5.

_Have you forgotten already? This is what sunlight felt like._

* * *

 

“…And so, that concludes the lesson for today.”

“Phew!”

Letting out a puff of air in a long sigh, Alba slumped lethargically over the back of his highly uncomfortable wooden chair, shutting his eyes briefly. Even from behind his closed lids, the formulas and concepts that seemed like complete nonsense at the best of times danced tauntingly in his vision.

“What’s with that pose, hero? You look like a slime. Has your slime fetish finally reached a new low?”

“Where did you get that idea?! And how many times have I told you that I don’t have a slime fetish!”

“It’s hard to tell.”

“I  _don’t!_ ”

“Sure, sure, whatever you say.” Sion chuckled lightly to himself as he snapped the cover of the heavy book in his hands shut, stowing it away in the large bag that had accompanied him to Alba’s cell. “I’ll be back. In the meantime, please see to it that you complete this entire stack of worksheets by our next meeting. I won’t hear any of your excuses if you miss even a single one.” Reaching behind the desk, Sion lifted up a large pile of papers that Alba swore had absolutely not been there a moment ago and set it on the desktop with an ominously muffled thump.

“That’s a lot!” Alba cringed away from the papers, eying them apprehensively. They were piled to a height that only slightly exceeded his head when he was sitting, and looked to be filled with formidable problems. “I-Isn’t this a bit much?”

“Don’t worry, you can do it. Good luck, hero.” The achingly familiar words immediately lost all sentimentality when Alba met Sion’s sadistically gleeful expression with a flat look. “Well then, I’m off.”

“Eh? You’re leaving already?”

Sion glanced back over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “I just said so, didn’t I?”

“But… But…” Alba cast around for an excuse, unable to suppress the rising surge of disappointment. “Don’t you want to talk a little more? I mean, the first thing you told me when you got here was to open up my book, and we’ve just been working until now. I thought… we could chat about something other than magic and all that.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, feeling his face heat up at the thought of his next admission. “It’s a little… lonely here.”

“…Pfft.”

“Somehow, that face of yours pisses me off!”

“Sorry, sorry, I couldn’t help it.” Sion’s hand was raised to his mouth, but it was plain to see that he had not intended to hide his snickers. “If you’re lonely, I’m sure you can ask one of the guards or Zwei to go with you. The toilet is just down that way and to the left.”

“I  _live_ here! I know where the toilet is!”

Crimson eyes went wide with fake surprise. “Ah, you’ve finally admitted it. They say admittance is the first step to acceptance, you know. I can’t say I care much for the place you’ve chosen to live in, but hero has always been a little strange like that…”

“I feel like there’s some sort of disconnect here?!”

“Don’t mind me. As long as you’re happy in… here, that’s all that matters.”

“Oh, um, yeah. … _Wait a second!_ ” The retort burst from Alba’s throat too quickly and he descended into a fit of coughing.

“Just kidding.” The coughing turned into a sharp yelp of pain as Alba felt a fist slam heavily onto the middle of his back, sending him face-first to the ground with a whimper. “But I’m afraid I don’t have time for idle chatter.”

“Why not?” Alba grumbled, pushing himself up from the cold floor. For the first time, he leveled a straight, resentful gaze into Sion’s eyes, relishing in the slight advantage of his newfound height. “Not even for a little while? It’s just been work, work, work! I want to know how you’ve been. I want to know how Crea-san’s been. I want to know how your journey’s going and what you’ve been doing out there. I want to know if you’re happy! I mean, you only come once a month, right? That’ll be only twelve times a year that I get to see you, so it’s only natural I want to talk to you a lot while you’re here! Isn’t it?!”

The earnest, pleading words rang loudly throughout the prison cell, echoing endlessly in the tiny room. Sion was still half turned towards the exit, an expressionless look on his face that sent discomfiting chills down Alba’s spine. Nevertheless, the imprisoned hero stood his ground, determined to hear an answer.

And suddenly, Sion frowned. “Twelve times a year, you said? Mr. Hero, were you planning on staying in this place for that long? Even longer?”

Caught off-guard by the change to a seemingly insignificant topic, Alba could only blink in confusion. “…Huh?”

“When we started these lessons, I thought that like this, we could have your magic under control and you out of here in half a year at the very least, or nine, ten months at the most. Because of your lack of brains, it’s taking a little longer than the most optimistic prediction, but I would say that we’re moving at a good pace. Are you unsatisfied with your progress? Ah! The rumors about your fondness for the slammer were true after all, and you can’t bear to leave such a lovely place, am I right? My apologies, I underestimated your jail fetish. I completely understand, and will slow down your learning appropriately. I’m glad that we can take things at a more manageable speed now. Or perhaps you would like to halt the lessons altogether?”

“Stop, stop, stop,  _stop!_ ” The tension in the air had snapped long ago, and Alba found his voice again, waving his hands in frantic mortification. “You’ve got it all wrong! Seriously! I’m really sorry and I want to get out of here someday so please continuing teaching me. Teacher.”

“Is that so?” Unseen by Alba, who was kneeling on the ground out of terrified respect, amusement flashed briefly in Sion’s eyes before he turned away once more, adjusting the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “In any case, I really need to leave now. Don’t forget about your homework.”

“Huh?!” Alba snapped his head up just in time to see the jail door slam shut with a loud clank, the figure of Sion’s back rapidly shrinking beyond the bars. “W-Wait! Um, see you next month…?”

Sion’s only reply was an airy wave of his hand without looking behind before he finally vanished.

Solitary and left to his own thoughts, Alba turned away and caught sight of the massive, slightly disheveled pile of papers on his desk. He groaned internally and strode right past the stack to his bed, collapsing onto the mattress with his face sunken in the pillows.

_…Even when I finally managed to admit that it’s lonely, he just brushed it off like it was nothing. Maybe I should’ve expected that._

It wasn’t as if he had expected any sort of overwhelming sympathy—Alba was certain that if Sion had begun acting with extravagant kindness, he would be running for the hills, jailbreak or not. But at the very least, he hoped Sion had realized how important their monthly lessons were to him.

Or perhaps, was he just being selfish? Alba rolled onto his side, staring blankly at the stack of homework. Sion was taking time out of his journey to tutor him; time away from Crea, whom Sion had spent a thousand years desperately trying to save. It was natural that Sion might resent being pulled away to teach some amateur human how to control magic, wasn’t it?

Something in his chest thudded painfully.

Alba sighed, directing a dispirited gaze to the calendar pinned above his bed. The date had been circled in bright red, and it was already over. He closed his eyes, burying himself under the blankets.

_Another month gone, huh?_

* * *

_Clang!_

“Wha-?!” The harsh sound of metal slamming against stone roused Alba from his deep sleep in a panic. He bolted upright, scrambling to get out of bed, only to find his blankets entangled around his legs as if it had been a trap set up for his sake. As a result, Alba crashed less than gracefully to the ground with a pained yelp.

“Ow, ow- What’s happening?!”

“Good morning, hero! It’s going to be a beautiful day today!”

“Alba-san, good morning! Are you alright?”

“Yo, it’s been a while, Alba-kun!”

“ _Sion?!_ ” Alba rubbed his bleary eyes, still adjusting his sight to the three familiar shadowy shapes towering over him. “Ruki? Crea-san?”

“That’s us!” Crea winked one bright blue eye and grinned, reaching a hand down to help Alba up. “Hope you don’t mind the intrusion!”

“Y-You’ve already intruded, so…”

Something small tackled Alba in a tight hug around his midsection, nearly knocking the air out of him, and Alba looked down to see a figure topped with long pink hair and fluttering black wings perched on her head. “It’s a special day, Alba-san!” Ruki sang cheerfully, a winning smile stretched across her childish features. “We came to get you!”

“A special... day?” Alba repeated in a dumbfounded voice, registering nothing but a mix of unexpected happiness and utter confusion. “What are you talking about? And what are you all doing here?"

“You really are slow, aren’t you, hero?” Glancing up and getting a good look at Sion for the first time, Alba spotted something white and round and flat on the plate that the other man was balancing easily in his hand. A vague feeling of foreboding whispered to Alba in the back of his mind.

“Um, so… What’s… that for-”

Three identical beaming expressions and three voices called out loudly in unison—

“ _Happy birthday!_ ”

“…Heh?”

Taking advantage of the hero’s mouth agape in complete bewilderment, Sion lifted the plate and in one easy motion, slammed the cake with all his might into Alba’s unsuspecting face.

* * *

He had forgotten his own birthday.

Alba sneezed for the tenth time into a towel, blanching at the pieces of frosting and cake that had been expelled. The cake, Sion had explained much too happily, had been specially baked for the purpose of being smashed into his face, so it was not a waste after all despite Alba’s indignant protests.

“I think… I’ll go take a shower,” Alba muttered thickly, wiping his face again in vain.

“Okay!”

“Do you need someone to go with you, hero?”

“No thank you!”

Alba hurried off before Sion could offer any more helpful suggestions, darting towards the nearby bathroom.

To think that for all the checking of the calendar he did on a daily basis, Alba had not realized it at all. What month it was, what day it was, only noticing the solitary dates circled in bright red each month—the day of the lessons.

He closed the door, still hearing the chattering melody of Ruki’s bubbly laughter, Crea’s enthusiastic exclamations, Sion’s composed remarks in the room beyond, and smiled to himself, just a little.

Twenty minutes later, Alba returned from his impromptu shower still rubbing a towel over his wet hair, only to find that Sion was the only one remaining in the cell, sitting cross-legged on Alba’s bed and reading a handful of papers with a less than pleased expression.

“Huh? Where did Ruki and Crea-san go?”

“They went to get things ready,” Sion replied without looking up.

“Ready?”

“You’ll see. In the meantime, I’m very interested to hear the reason that you haven’t even attempted a single one of these problems. I did say that they were due at our next meeting, didn’t I?”

“I thought you were coming next month! And you can see it’s totally impossible to finish all of them in one night, isn’t it?!”

“Excuses. When exactly did I say the next time I was coming would be next month?”

“…Ugh.”

Sion set the papers aside carelessly and stood, moving towards the jail door. “Normally, this is the part where I give you remedial work (physical), but we’re running a little late as it is, thanks to your shower fetish.”

“Can you stop with the fetish thing. Please.”

“Let’s go, hero.”

“Go?” Alba’s eyes widened in astonishment as Sion pushed the door open and held it, impatiently tapping his foot. “You mean… out of here?”

“Of course I mean that. Do you see anywhere else to go? My, my, forgetting your own birthday, unable to comprehend simple gestures, could this be the mysterious illness of getting old?”

“Aren’t  _you_  older than I am?!”

Hurrying after Sion before he could change his mind, Alba slipped nervously out of the cell, looking back as Sion let the door close with an echoing sound. “Is this really okay?” Alba asked uneasily, falling into step with his friend and striding side by side. “The king…”

“We asked permission from the princess, and that’s good enough,” Sion said immediately, staring straight ahead. “Don’t get the wrong idea. You’re being allowed outside only for the purposes of implementing your magic training.” His eyes flicked to the side at Alba. “Your understanding of the concepts is… adequate by now, I suppose, but opportunities to put them to practical use have been limited. So, this is training.”

“Oh…” The king was certainly absentminded, too quick to jump to conclusions, and just a little incompetent, but still the authority of the land. Nevertheless, Alba was relieved to hear that this excursion would not be deemed a jailbreak if anyone saw them.

At long last, they exited the cave into outside space. Alba inhaled deeply, savoring the air; it never felt this fresh in his cell. He was surprised to see that the sky was still dark, beginning to lighten slightly in the east, but mostly a uniform layer of navy blue studded with dimming stars. “I thought you said it was morning. The sun’s not even up yet.”

“Details,” Sion said dismissively, already taking the lead as he walked ahead. “Hurry up, or we’ll miss it.”

“Miss what?”

“You’ll see.” That infuriatingly vague answer again. Alba only sighed and followed, glancing around. It was utterly deserted, with no signs of life but the two of them, simultaneously peaceful and lonely. The lack of attention he paid to where he was going resulted in Alba bumping into Sion’s back when the latter abruptly stopped. “Here should be fine.”

“Um…” It didn’t seem as if they had arrived anywhere; rather, they were quite in the middle of nowhere.

Sion whirled to face Alba, an unexpectedly serious expression on his face. “We’re starting your training now, hero. Tie this around your eyes.” Something rolled up in a ball in Sion’s hand that Alba hadn’t noticed before sailed towards him, and he caught it with ease. It was a familiar piece of dark red fabric, slightly ragged around the edges.

“Is this-?”

“A little faster, please.”

His fingers fumbling as he placed the scarf over his eyes, Alba finally managed to tie a respectable knot on the back of his head, enveloping his vision in complete darkness. And all at once, he became acutely aware of everything else; every sound, every smell, every movement, as if compensating for the lack of sight.

A rustle of fabric told Alba that Sion was moving towards him, and he felt a firm grip around his left wrist, lifting his hand up. “We’ll start with something simple,” Sion said evenly from somewhere in front. “Calling your magic—that is, gathering it for its intended purpose, should be easy by now.”

“Mmhm.”

“Imagine forming a sphere of magic around us. Yes, that’s it, think of a soap bubble floating in the air. You’re going to make this sphere float the same way, with us in it. I’ll tell you where to go from there.”

“Uwah—” Abruptly, there was a stomach-turning sensation of weightlessness as Alba realized his feet had left the ground. The bubble of magic he could not see hummed softly from all sides, presumably rising into the air, and Alba could not help but unconsciously cling to his only anchor.

“Hero, please stop squeezing so hard. You’re cutting off the circulation in my arm.”

“Oh! Sorry.” He loosened his grip around Sion’s wrist and turned his head anxiously from side to side despite the blindfold. After several seconds of silence, he asked tentatively, “Um, how high are we, exactly?”

Alba could perfectly visualize the amused expression on his friend’s face. “That’s for me to know,” Sion replied, not quite reassuringly. “All you need to do is concentrate on maintaining your output of magic and not getting distracted. If we fall from here, we’ll certainly become flatter than you were when that Nisepanda stepped on you!”

“That’s not making me feel any better!”

“Ahaha. Start moving left, please.”

Alba obeyed, grumbling slightly. In truth, he was rather proud of how well this training seemed to be going—a far cry from the days when one split second of lost focus resulted in a large area of destruction. Studying in the cell was nothing like putting it into practice, and it was an accomplishment he hoped Sion was proud of too.

“And, stop. Yes, right here.” Sion’s steady voice rang with undaunted authority. “Now please release the magic.”

“Huh? Here? Aren’t we high up in the air?”

“We are!”

“Don’t say that so happily!” Incredulous, Alba raised a hand to pull off the blindfold only to have his head snap forward from a harsh blow by Sion. “Ow!”

“You can take that off when I say so, no sooner,” Sion said impatiently. “Hurry up and release your magic already.”

“You’re kidding! I’m not going to release my magic in the middle of the air!”

“You can do it, Alba.”

Alba froze. There was something different in the tone of Sion’s voice. He couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but it was there, washing over him like a wave of confidence and lighting something warm in his chest.

“…Alright.”

It was easier than snapping his fingers—the mere wish for something to blink out of existence. The bubble burst with an audible pop around them, and Alba gasped sharply as he felt himself begin to plummet, the natural force of gravity forcing him down.

But in the next second, his feet had slammed onto something hard and solid. Alba flailed, waving his arms desperately to keep his balance, yet the sudden change in momentum caused him to topple to the side, landing shoulder-first onto a flat surface. It was then that Alba realized Sion was nowhere nearby, and he tried to keep the first vestiges of panic out of his voice even as he raised himself up on his elbows, still vaguely disoriented. “Sion?”

“I’m here. You can take the blindfold off now, hero.”

Sion’s voice seemed farther away, but Alba did as he was told, grasping the scarf by the knot and pulling it off.

Instantly, his field of view was flooded with a dazzling golden light. He nearly shut his eyes again, squinting hard to see what could possibly be blinding him so. As Alba’s vision finally adjusted, his expression went slack with wonder.

Ribbons of pale pink, orange, and red trailed across the sky, almost as if chasing away the great tide of dark blue that heralded night. The streaks of color flanked a dot of gold just barely beginning to peek over the horizon, easily seen from the vast height of the large rock plateau his magic had apparently lifted him and Sion to. He had never seen a more breathtaking sunrise.

It was dawn.

Small hands covered by white sleeves pulled at Alba’s left arm, and a larger pair of hands grabbed his other. Alba snapped out of his daze to see Ruki and Crea at his sides, beaming just as radiantly as the sun. Another hand seized the back collar of his shirt, simultaneously dragging him up to an unsteady standing position, and turning him around.

“Happy birthday, Alba.”

There was Sion, an expression of quiet happiness in his features and that rare, soft look in his bright red eyes. He gestured behind him, at the crowd that Alba had not noticed until now, and they immediately began cheering, shouts of congratulations mingling with birthday wishes. There was Ruki’s mother and father, smiling contently; there was Hime-chan and Ares and Foyfoy and Rudolf and Teufel; even Janua and Samejima and more, more, so many more.

Yet even amidst the overwhelming noise, Alba could hear Sion’s calm voice as clearly as if it were only the two of them, under the rapidly brightening canopy of an unbroken sky.

“This is everyone’s thanks, for everything.”

For some reason, there was a strange lump in his throat, something hot prickling at the corner of his eyes, and his heart pounding so quickly he thought it might burst.

At long last, a choked noise worked its way out of Alba’s throat.

“Thank you, everyone…!”

.

.

.

_Happy birthday, to everyone’s hero!_


End file.
